The Turn of the Century
by Mischievous Elf
Summary: Wolf is a Newsie and has been on her own for four years. She ran away for reasons no one but her really knows; she's steeled herself away because of it. Now she meets the Manhattan Newsies days before the strike. What will she learn from it? Can she start to trust again? Will she let someone in after all these years? Eventually Spot/OC
1. Prologue

The year was 1899; the turn of the century. Everyone knew that this was going to be a year to remember. I mean, how often to you get to see the turn of the century? However, no one knew just how important this year would be, for it was unlike any other. It was the time of the newsboys and their strike against Pulitzer; an event many saw as a lost war before it even began. No one dared to make a stand until a solitary Newsie said it was time to act. In the end, the Newsies won the unbeatable battle. The fought the injustices and succeeded.

That was also the year that I had learned something important; I realized that I was missing something that I never really had. The turn of the century and the strike made me see things clearly for the first time in my life. I never knew how much I was letting slip past me unnoticed until I finally let someone in.

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**Short? Yeah, I know. But this is just the intro. Who says an intro has to be three pages long? Next chapter will be up ****_very_**** soon!**


	2. 1 Welcome to the Family

**Quick note: I will not be using New York slang. I find it difficult to read at times, and I just cannot write that way. Besides, anyone reading this knows that the characters have the accents; in my opinion, if you know that, I don't need to write it like that. There's an exception, I'll use "youse" in place of "you" in some places. Other than that, not much slang. Hope this doesn't bother you too much.**

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1895

_I tremble violently as a strong gust of wind sweeps up from the East River. I lean up against a stack of stable crates, trying to give my legs a brief rest. However, my body makes the end decision as I sit down on one of the smaller stacks. I sigh softly, enjoying a moment of peace._

_I've been on the run for days. Somehow, I've managed to get from Philadelphia to the Brooklyn Bridge. I try to see this as an accomplishment, but all I take notice of is the reason I'm even in my current predicament. My head hangs and rests lightly in my hands._

_A shuffling noise from my left causes me to return to present time. My heads snaps over to see the outline of a person. With only the light of a crescent moon, I can barely tell if it's a man or a woman. I slowly stand up; ready to flee if the situation calls for it. As the figure gets closer, I make out the shape of a whiskey bottle. That's when I come to the conclusion that it's a man. By the way he walks, I can tell he's had one too many; I've seen that haphazard walk many times before. I slowly start to back up silently until my leg connects with the edge of a crate._

_The man's drunken gaze meets mine and I freeze for I can see his head snap up in my direction. I move around the crates, making an escape route over the bridge. I watch him take another drink from the bottle._

_"Hello, girly." he slurs. "Where're youse runnin' off to?_

_My throat constricts tightly as he continues to approach me. _Catherine, stop…think; you know how to handle this._ I take one deep breath before replying, "Who said I was running?" I self-consciously clench my hands into fists, preparing for the worst._

_"Wha's your name beau'iful?" he asks, the alcohol affecting his speech._

_"Martha." I lie coolly, supplying my mother's name._

_"Well, Martha, why don' you join me?"_

_I take another step back. _Get ready to make a run for it._ I keep my gaze on him. "I really can't. I have to…to get home. I'm late coming from a…a party." He gets a bit closer and I catch the strong scent of alcohol._

_"Well, you can par'y wit' me." he grins._

_"I'd rather not."_

_His grin falters; he obviously expected me to be compliant. He throws the now-empty bottle to the ground in a sudden drunken fury. _Great, I was hoping to avoid something like this._ I take another, larger, step back._

_"You'll do as I tell you to!" he shouts, making an attempt to lunge at me._

_I quickly bring my already clenched fist up and manage to hit his cheek. The man staggers back, my blow catching him off guard. He looks back at me; his eyes smoldering with anger._

_"You lil' bitch!" he yells_

_I wait for him to attack again. However, a voice calls out to the man before he can come after me again._

_"Hey! I believe the lady wants to be left alone." someone says_

_I look back down the alley behind the man. Someone's leaning up against one of the buildings. Judging by the sound of the person's voice, I can say it sounds male. _How long has he been there? _My attacker looks away from me to other man._

_"Leave now, boy. Before youse gets hurt." the drunk growls._

_"I will…as soon as youse leaves her alone."_

_I watch as the still intoxicated man begins to walk away from me towards the second man. My head keeps telling me to make a run for it, but I remain frozen in place. The two men seem to be face to face; I can't hear anything, so I assume they're either whispering or simply staring each other down. After a minute or so the man who attacked me stumbles backwards before leaving the scene. I knit my eyebrows together in confusion. _What just happened?_ I then notice that my rescuer remains in his place, still leaning against the wall._

_"Thank you." I say aloud._

_I can barely make out his silhouette in the lighting provided by the moon._

_"No problem. Youse was doing a pretty good job yourself. For a girl." he adds._

_I look down at my feet, feeling my cheeks heat up involuntarily._

_"So, where's you really headin'?" he asks._

_"Honestly, I don't know." I sigh._

_"Well, right now, youse has two choices. Cross the bridge into Brooklyn or stay here in 'hattan."_

Brooklyn or Manhattan… I don't really know anything about either one.

_"Which would you suggest?" I finally ask him._

_I vaguely see him glance at me, sizing me up._

_" 'hattan would suit you better. Brooklyn doesn't always carry the best types of people."_

_"Thank you, again."_

_"The name's – "_

_"No, I don't want to know. I prefer the anonymity."_

_It appears as though he shrugs. "Have it your way. If I may though, I'd like to know the name of the girl I's helped. Your _real_ name."_

_I cross my arms. "How do you know Martha isn't my real name?"_

_He chuckles, "You seem like the type who knows when the situation calls for a lie or two."_

_I nod once. _Damn, he's good._ "The name's Catherine."_

_"Well, Catherine, I suggest youse start looking for somewhere to hold up in. More like him'll be showing up in about an hour."_

_I nod again. This time, I start to walk off away from the man. I look over my shoulder and say, "Thanks for everything."_

_"Don't mention it… How long youse staying in New York?"_

_"Not long. This is just a stopping point."_

_"G'night, Catherine." he replies after a moment of silence._

_"You too."_

_And without another word or a look back, I walk away into the city._

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1899

I wake up with a groan. I feel myself slowly roll off the pile of crates I slept on. I manage to land on my feet but stagger back a bit. I stretch quickly, my back popping as I do so. I take a minute to braid my long golden hair, sling it over my shoulder, and grab my grey cabbie hat. I straighten out my dark green button-up shirt, black vest, and dust off my brown pants. I sigh audibly and walk out of the alley.

I find myself slowly but surely making my way towards the distribution desk. When I approach, I notice a large group of boys casually standing around, waiting for the gates to open. _Either I'm really early, or they are…I've never seen these guys before in my life._ I make my way up to the gates and wait for them to open. As I stand there, I feel most of their eyes on me. I turn ever-so-slightly to catch the gaze of a boy with a red bandana around his neck, his brown eyes sparkling.

"Hey, youse must be new around here. I'm Jack." he says.

I smirk at him, crossing my arms. "I think you're four years too late for that introduction."

His grin falters. "You've been here for four years?"

"Yeah. The name's Wolf." I smile broadly, offering my hand.

He shakes my hand firmly, his grin replastered on his face. "Nice to meet ya, Wolf. We," he gestures to the group surrounding us, "are the Manhattan Newsies."

"Really? Huh…my whole time here in New York and I've never actually met you. I hear a lot of things, though."

"Oh yeah? What do people say? Good things?" the boy beside Jack asks around his cigar.

"Most of the time. It really depends on the part of the city." I shrug. "And your name is?"

"Where're me manners? I'm Racetrack, but everyone just calls me Race."

An eerie silence befalls the group. I turn to see two unpleasant looking boys push their way through the others. I hear some of the others start to chuckle not-so-quietly.

"Dear me, what is that unpleasant aroma? I fear the sewers may have backed up during the night." Race jokes.

"Nah, too rotten to be the sewers." one comments.

"Then it must be…the Delancey brothers." the one on the crutch says.

I smirk as they get closer to the front. They sneer at one of the younger boys and toss him on the ground. "In the back, you ugly little shrimp."

"Hey!" I shout, pushing the one with the salmon shirt. "How 'bout picking on somebody your own size?"

He looks back at his brother who grins at me in a way that makes me want to gag.

"Yeah? And what's a girl like you gonna do 'bout it?" he laughs as he tries to grab my wrist.

I recoil immediately and land a nice blow to the side of his face. He loses his footing and his brother helps him regain his balance. The one I punched glares at me as he touches his reddening cheek. I smile brightly at him, waiting for his retaliation.

"Why you little –" he growls as he tries to grab me.

I step back as Jack interferes, stopping the boy mid-lunge. "Woah, woah, woah. Don't ya know how to treat a lady?" he asks the two brothers. "Yeah Oscar, that's an insult. And so is this." Jack knocks the bowler hat off his head and takes off. As he passes by, he winks at me. In a moment, he's racing away with the Delancey brothers hot on his tail and the group of Newsies cheering him on. I chuckle lightly at the brothers. _Are they seriously that angered by such a little thing?_ I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see Race.

"Where'd youse learn to hit like that?" he asks.

"It's called self-defense. A girl on her own in New York… You learn a few things." I shrug.

"Wait…you're on your own?" he stares at me.

"Yeah. Have been for quite a while."

"So where've you been staying?"

"Oh, you know. Here, there, everywhere."

He inclines his head as if he's trying to process it all. Something behind me catches his attention and he walks off. I turn to see him talking to Jack who has returned from messing with the Delancey brothers…or not. The two boys race up behind Jack and push him to the ground. The rest of the group gathers around them as Jack quickly kicks one in the stomach. In a manner of seconds, Jack is back on his feet and the brothers are trying to regain their balance. In a burst of adrenalin, Jack scales the gate and looks out over his fellow Newsies. I chuckle lightly at the entire spectacle. Another minute passes and the gates open as the circulation bell tolls.

I walk n behind Race and Jack who're speaking to each other in hushed tones. I see Weasel open the shutters at the desk and Jack promptly starts to tease him.

"Ya miss me, Weasel?"

"You know my name;it's Weisel. Mister Weisel to you. How many?" he sighs.

"Don't rush me. I'm perusin' the merchandise." Jack teases him, flipping through the pape. He finally brings out a coin and slaps in down on the counter. "The usual."

"Uh huh. A hundred papes to the wise guy. Next!" Weasel calls out.

I catch a brief smirk on Jack's face as he takes his papes and sit down on the edge of the walkway. Race moves up and says something to Weasel as he lights up his cigar.

"Fifty papes!" he calls to the boys in the back.

I step up to the desk and place my coin down. "Fifty, Weasel." I smile at him as he scowls.

"You should really watch what company you keep." he says to me.

"So should you." I jerk my head in the Delancey brothers direction. All three of them glare at me. Weasel gives a sharp exhale, "Fifty papes." They land on the desk beside my hand, and before I leave, I look up at the second brother. "I'm surprised you can count that high." As I walk down to sit beside Race, I hear him growl.

"Anything good?" I ask.

Race looks up at me as I sit down. He scans the paper again, "A baby born with two heads. Must be from Brooklyn."

"Huh. That'll work." I say opening up the paper to find anything else that'll strike people's interest…with a little twist on my part. I start to glance through the articles when a commotion at the desk causes me to look up.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Weasel asks to the kid in front of him.

"No. I just want my other pape." he replies.

I watch as Jack gets up to count the papers himself. He looks up at Weasel then at the kid. "Nineteen, Weasel. It's an honest mistake – on account of Morris can't count to twenty with his shoes on." I chuckle as Morris grabs the bars in front of Jack. Weasel gets another pape brought up to the kid and shouts, "Next!"

"Hold it! Race," Jack calls out, "Spot me two-bits."

I see him comply and pull out a coin to toss up to Jack. Jack orders another fifty to the already annoyed kid who insists he doesn't need them. _Just hush and take 'em._ I roll my eyes. I stand up, ready to leave when Jack and Race come up to me.

"Hey, Wolf." Jack says, lightly grabbing my arm.

"Yeah?" I ask, turning around.

"Race here was telling me youse don't really have a place to stay. I'm fairly sure wese has an extra bunk."

I smile sincerely at him as I say, "That's awfully kind of you, but I don't want to be a burden."

"Nah, youse wouldn't be. So, how's 'bout it?" Jack asks.

I stand there contemplating the situation at hand. _Should I? I barely know these guys…but they're offering me a place to stay._ I sigh softly and look up at Jack with a smirk.

"Sure. If you guys are kind enough to offer, who am I to turn you down?"

Race and Jack grin at me. I notice the kid who had his papes miscounted coming up behind Jack. I nod my head in his direction and Jack turns around. I walk up behind him and whisper, "I'll see you guys later." I turn to go when Race calls out to me, "Hey, Wolf. Care to sell with me?"

"I think I can manage." I laugh.

"Well, youse don't know the way to the Lodging House. I figured this way I can show youse the way back after we're done." he reiterates.

I see the logic in his explanation and agree. He enthusiastically walks with me as we go along selling papes and making our way to, apparently, Race's favorite selling location, Sheepshead Races. As we walk, I think about how I ended up here and chuckle softly.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing. I just never really thought I'd be a Manhattan Newsie."

"Well, welcome to the family."

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**Told youse I'd have the next chapter up soon. So, whatcha think? Who did Miss Catherine/Wolf meet near the Brooklyn Bridge? Send me a review/questions/answers please!**


	3. 2 Inner Decisions

**The response I received in these few days alone has been tremendous! I can't be more thrilled/happy. I'm enjoying this story a lot and I hope that you are too. Also, I'm glad to see that no one has complained about the speech of the boys.**

**Panda Bear: I'm glad to see that someone is a Race fan (I am too!). However, I'm trying to make him more of a brother – type figure than her ending up with him. I hope you'll continue to read this though.**

**Wapomeo Huntress: When I read your review, I was already trying to think of another reason as to why her nickname is Wolf. I hope this one makes sense to you; I thought it defined her character and why she acts the way she does (quick-witted, tough, etc.)**

**And to the rest of you who reviewed with your guesses as to who was on the docks, well… I'll leave you guessing for now.**

**Here's chapter two.**

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After a good, long day of selling at the track, Race starts to lead me to the Lodging House. We seemed to enjoy teasing each other the entire time. I smirk briefly as I remember the way his brown eyes lit up upon arriving.

"So, d'ya enjoy yourself, Wolf?" he asks me.

"You know something, Race? I really did." I smile.

"Good. I'm glad." he replies. "So, why 'Wolf'?"

"What?"

"Why's youse name Wolf?"

I chuckle lightly, pausing our walk. I hold back my response, already knowing why his nickname was Racetrack. Race looks back at me waiting for me to catch up.

"So, what's the story?"

I sigh uneasily, not really ready to divulge in my back story. However, I decide that this particular tale is one that isn't one I need to keep a secret from Race, or any of the Newsies for that matter.

"Well, I was friends with this one kid when I was younger…Ethan; we were the best of friends, we did everything together. But, he was one of those kids that seemed like a magnet for bullying. I can't just let someone mess with the people I care about, ya know?

"So, this one day, a few of the older kids in our neighborhood start picking on him, before I know it, they're pushing him, kicking him. I rush in there and break it up. Well, they turn on me; I take on the three of them, something that not many people would think of doing, let alone a girl. I came out pretty beat up, but they left Ethan alone after that."

I smile faintly at the memory that seems so long ago. "He called me 'Wolf' because he said I was a loyal friend who was defensive when it came to the ones I loved and aggressive when the situation called for it." I look up at Race as I finish.

He stands there, just looking at me, trying to figure me out. He walks back over and grins. "Ya know, your friend left out one part of that comparison."

"And what was that, Race?" I ask him, slightly puzzled.

"Wolves are beautiful creatures." he smiles.

I subtly roll my eyes. "That's really sweet of you, Racetrack. But I have one thing to say."

"Yeah?"

"Keep dreamin'." I tell him as I playfully tap his hat down over his eyes. I hear him chuckle as I start to walk ahead, knowing he'll catch up. "You're going to fit right in, Wolf." I turn around to find him right behind me. "I really hope so. It's been a while since I've fit in anywhere." Race slings his arm across my shoulders as he continues to lead me to the Lodging House.

As it turns out, we're closer than I'd imagined. It takes us all of five minutes to arrive. When we turn the corner and head towards the door, I notice Jack walking over from the other street. I leave Race's side to go over to greet him.

"Hey, Jack."

He looks up at me as a tired grin spreads across his face, almost like he's had a lot of thinking to do. "Hey, Wolf. Nice t' see youse. How'd ya do today?"

"Not bad. Race took me up to the track."

"Oh yeah?" he looks over at Race, who's standing near the door, then back to me. "How'd that go?"

"Remember that hot tip I told youse 'bout?"

"Yeah?" Jack replies.

"No one told the horse." he says bitterly.

I look up at Jack with a smirk who promptly starts to chuckle. He extends his arm towards the doorway, motioning me to enter first. I follow the gesture and step into a small lobby – type area. A decent – sized wooden desk positions itself between the stairs and the wall in front of the door; a narrow staircase leads up to what I suspect is the boys' living quarters.

Behind the desk stands an older man with small round glasses resting on the edge of his nose. He appears to be exhausted, judging by the dark circles under his eyes. Jack walks past me up to the man who smiles at the Newsie. Race guides me over to the desk and I feel the man's gaze on me.

"And who do we have here?" he asks. His tone suggests that he's not even a bit irritated with the fact I'm a girl.

"I'm Wolf." I smile at him.

"She needs a place to stay, Kloppman." Jack explains.

Kloppman opens the book on the desk to start looking through a list of names and various symbols. He points to an empty line and looks up at me with a smile. "Well, Miss Wolf," I cringe slightly, though it goes unnoticed by the boys, "just sign here and you're set."

I pick up the pen next to the book and move my hand to write on the line. I pause just above the paper and look up at him through my lashes with a smirk. "Should I write my name, nickname, or any fancy symbol I can think of?" Race and Jack pause their conversation to stare at me in disbelief. Kloppman continues to smile at me kindly as he replies, "I recommend your nickname or a symbol, just in case anyone comes lookin' for ya." I nod in understanding before signing "Wolf" on the line. I set the pen down and look back at him. "What do I pay you?" He chuckles lightly, "Let's see how you like the place. If you stay, we can talk about payment next week." I feel my cheeks heat up slightly due to his kindness, not being used to such an attribute in a long while.

"Boys, kindly show Miss Wolf to her bunk." Kloppman tells them. They start to lead me up the stairs when he adds, "Oh, and Jack? Don't forget to give her the tour." The boy nods and continues on up. We reach the top of the stairs and I peer out from behind Jack to see boys hanging around the bunks. Race walks down the center aisle and whistles, gaining their attention. Race nods to Jack, telling him to speak.

"Alrigh' boys. This is Wolf; the newest member of the Manhattan Newsies." I step around Jack so that they can see me better. I shift from foot to foot uncomfortably as they all start to stare intensely at me. I feel Jack place his hands on my shoulders before continuing. "I want youse all to make her feel welcome. And if any of youse gets outta line – "

"I'll personally toss you out _that_ window." I finish for him, pointing across the room. The boys look at me as though I've gone crazy, then I glare at them. I glance up at Jack to find him grinning at me. "You heard the girl. Now," he lowers his voice so that he's only talking to me, "I believe introductions are in order."

Jack brings me over to meet the rest of the Newsies. I successfully manage to remember five of them: Mush – the smooth talker, Skittery – slightly pessimistic, Crutchy – headstrong, yet kind, Kid Blink (Blink) – the lady's man, and Boots – the sweetheart; each one as charming as the last, each with their own unique personality. For the most part, they welcome me with open arms.

Jack continues to show me around the lodge, taking me into the wash area and where I would be sleeping – also known as the bunk above Racetrack. Despite being pretty small for the amount of people in the place, it was pleasant. Jack leaves me to myself as he gets called away by Mush. I just look around, taking in all of the little peculiar elements of the rooms. I find myself wandering about the lodge, passing the bunking room towards another set of stairs leading up. I glance around to see if anyone's watching before going up.

I find myself on the roof of the Lodging House. I smile to myself, finding peace in the cool, quiet night. I walk over to the edge of the building and sit down, letting my legs hang over the side. I cast my gaze up at the sky to see the dark canvas speckled with thousands of tiny lit – up orbs. My smile vanishes as I remember all of the nights I'd spend gazing at the stairs back in Philadelphia. _No… Don't think about that, Wolf. That's all in the past, where it belongs._ I sigh softly, sad memories washing over me like a flood. _You left that place behind for a reason… Just forget it. Yet, how can I? Now that I'm around people who seem to actually accept me, but…can I ever trust them? How would they even take the truth? Would they even look at me the same way if they knew everything? _I shake my head at the thought. _No, they wouldn't. Let's just keep the past behind me and forget about it._ I gently close my eyes and try to block out the painful, powerful images that keep trying to resurface. I hear the door behind me open and the sound of footsteps getting closer to me. I look up to see Jack pursing his lips.

"Yeah, Jack?" I say.

"What youse doin' up here?" he asks, taking a seat beside me.

"Thinking." I reply.

"About?"

"Everything."

"Tell me." he suggests.

"I'd prefer to just let it be. It belongs where it is… In the past."

He nods slowly, almost as though he actually understands. I undo my braid and run a hand through my hair, trying to untangle it. I stuff the cord into my pants pocket and stand up. Jack looks up at me as I extend my hand, offering to help him up. He gladly accepts my offer and stands up beside me. I notice him checking out my outfit, pursing his lips as he does so.

"Enjoying the view, Jack?" I tease.

"Yeah – I mean, no…well," he replies quickly, stuttering while trying to find the right answer.

"I was just teasing you. Calm down." I laugh.

"Right… I was trying to think if we have any extra clothes for ya; any clothes that don't fit us anymore."

"That's awfully kind of you, Jack. You don't have to." I blush.

"Nah, wese's family; and family helps out family, right?" he asks me.

I look up at him sadly before giving a weak smile. "Not always." He cocks his head slightly, trying to figure out what I'm getting at. I grab his wrist and force a better smile upon my face. "C'mon. We should head back inside. We have to carry the banner tomorrow, remember?"

"Yeah, Wolf. I know." he grins.

We head back inside to find most of the boys already in their beds. Race's head perks up from his pillow when he hears me approach. He looks up at me with a half – asleep grin on his face. "Hey, Wolf."

"Hey, Race. You look incredibly tired. Go back to sleep." I tell him.

"Yeah, alright. Just don't step on my head to get up there, alright?"

"No promises." I joke.

He chuckles softly before shoving his face back in the pillow. I climb up onto my bunk and settle down. The room slowly starts to fill with the sound of snoring boys. I gently close my eyes, trying to get used to the idea of sleeping in a bed again. I turn slightly, trying to get comfortable before letting my drowsiness take over. The last thought that passes through my head is that I'm glad I agreed to come here.

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**So, there's chapter two. I'm currently working on the next one; it'll probably be shorter than the previous ones (not as short as the prologue though, I promise). Spot will appear soon, probably in two chapters time. I'll try to upload as quickly as possible, but with school and all, it may be a bit difficult.**

**So, what did you think? Do you like Wolf? What about her story behind her name? What do you think she's trying to hide from them? What are your general thoughts about the chapter? I hope some of the descriptions were okay. Please review and I'll so youse guys soon!**


	4. 3 The World Will Know

**You guys are fantastic! I could not ask for better reviewers/readers. I couldn't stop smiling when I read them; you guys are a writer's blessing. Oh, and this chapter has a song! Yes! This is one of my favorites in the movie (along with ****_King of New York_****). Wolf will probably steal some lines from Jack, but hey, I think it's alright. It's my story after all. But don't worry, she's not going to steal the spotlight…Not much anyway ;)**

**Panda Bear: I'm glad that you like it a lot… And that it's not getting kicked to the side of a dirt rode, haha. Jack more or less understands her, probably a bit better than most, considering his back story (you'll learn Wolf's later). Besides, he gets Sarah, so he can keep his hand off of Brooklyn's girl ;)**

**Wapomeo Huntress: I'm glad you like the back story! And I'm glad you somehow find this story amazing. These stories that I write are for you guys, the fans, the people who inspire the writers to continue.**

**I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. The next one we get to see Spot!**

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I wake up in the morning before most of the boys, still snoring contentedly in their beds. I carefully get down off of my bunk and quietly land on the floor with a soft _thud_. Race's snoring stops for a second before starting up again. I stifle a small chuckle before heading into the washing room. I walk in to find Mush already up.

"Hey, Mush." I greet him, yawning.

"Morning, Wolf. Youse sleep well?" he asks.

"Yes, actually. It's nice to actually have a peaceful sleep." I reply.

He nods, not seeming to know what to say. He spots something on a chair and looks back at me. "Jack mentioned to me last night that you might need some new clothes. I found these this morning. They're clothes that we all sorta outgrew. I hope you can find some that'll fit you." he says with a smile.

"Thanks Mush. You know, I haven't even been with you guys for a day yet and you're already taking me in. Why?"

"Jack said youse looked like youse needed help. He said he sees something in you, something that he's seen before."

"I'm not used to being helped." I admit.

"Why?"

I swallow uneasily. _I need to stop talking sometimes…_ "I'd rather not say. It's a rather long story and one I tend not to tell."

"Fair enough." He holds up his hands.

I smile at him. I walk over to the pile of clothes on the chair; I stare at them in disbelief, they're folded. I glance over at Mush and ask, "Who folded these?"

"Ha, Kloppman did a while ago. These have been stacked in an unused drawer for a bit now." he laughs.

"Now _that_ makes more sense."

He sends one more glance in my direction before leaving me in the room by myself. I quickly sort through the clothes, searching for articles that might actually fit me. I eventually find two new pairs of grey trousers, three new button–up shirts (one tan, one grey, one black checkered), a pair of red suspenders, and a tan hat underneath the pile. I quickly decide to give my hair a wash before changing into any new clothes.

I swiftly dry my hair, not bothering to let it air dry; I watch it slowly start to curl all the way down to my mid–back. I look out the doorway to see if the boys still sleeping before stripping out of my old clothes and into some of my new ones. I end up wearing the lighter set of grey trousers, the checkered shirt, and the red suspenders to add some color. I fold the clothes back up before taking mine and heading back out to where the boys are sleeping.

I set the clothes on top of my bed, trying to think of where to place them. I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and look to see Kloppman coming up. He smiles when he sees me up already. He starts walking down the aisle before yelling at the boys, telling them to wake up.

"C'mon, boys! Ink's wet, the presses are rolling, the papers are stacking! Come on! Rise and shine!" I watch as he goes around to each bunk to wake up each of the boys.

I sink to my knees to look at Racetrack's still-sleeping expression. I chuckle aloud and shake him. The only thing that changes is the sound of his snoring. I roll my eyes with a sigh before forcefully shoving him off the bed. He hits the ground with a loud _crash_ and a groan. He sits up holding his head where it connected with the floor. His brown eyes lock onto my green-grey ones and he glares.

"What was that for?" he snaps.

"Kloppman was waking everyone up and you were still sleeping. Now you're awake." I smile.

He casts one more pointed look in my direction before standing up. I move up from the floor to grab my hat before sitting down on the edge of Race's bed. I hold my head in my hands as I try to collect the thoughts racing around in my head.

"Hiya, Wolf." someone says.

I glance over to see a smiling Jack sitting on the bed opposite me. "Hey, Jack. What are you up to?"

"Nothing in particular. Just came over to see how youse is doin', how youse is fittin' in. I see you found some new clothes." He gestures to my outfit.

"Yeah. Mush found them this morning. He said you mentioned that I might need some new clothes. Thank you."

"Ah, it's nothing. Family 'member?" he says.

"Yeah… I'm going to need to get used to that term again." I half-smile.

Jack chuckles lightly, but something in the tone tells me it's an uneasy, forced chuckle, something I've had to use before. I look around the room to try to find any of the others. I feel my forehead furrow in confusion when I don't spot any.

"Oh, shit." I hear Jack mutter.

I turn my head back to see him standing up, offering his hand to me. I accept the offer and he continues to hold onto it as he leads me out of the Lodging House onto the street. "We appear to be a little behind." he tells me.

"Um, Jack?" I start.

"Yeah?"

"You can let go of my hand now." I reply.

He quickly lets go of my hand as he shoves his in his pockets. "Sorry." he mumbles, shaking his head at himself. I laugh at his reddening cheeks. "Come on, Jack. We've got to catch up, don't we?" He nods while still looking away from me. I smile with an eye roll before linking my arm through his. This causes him to look up; an eyebrow raised at me. "Come on. Let's go." His smirking expression reappears as he walks me through the streets to the distribution center.

"So, I have a question." I eventually speak up.

"Yeah?"

"What's with the hat?" I peer at the black hat hanging from a rope around his neck.

"It goes with me nickname: Cowboy." he explains.

"Wait…so Jack is your real name?"

"Yeah, o' course it is." he replies quickly.

"Isn't that risky? I mean, I'm just thinking about what Kloppman said."

"Well, no one's lookin' for me, so what's the harm?"

I avert my eyes to the road ahead of us. _He's being evasive; you know this technique. _I crease my forehead with annoyance. _Why won't he just tell me?_ I feel myself start to calm back down when I realize that I'm not letting any of them in either… _Why should they be any different than me?_ We continue to walk in silence the rest of the way.

As we draw nearer, I start to hear angry voices and shouting. I watch as a few kids storm away from the distribution center. _What's going on?_ I pull myself away from Jack and jog over towards the gates. I see the Newsies standing around, yelling to each other. I look up at Blink who sees my confused expression before crying out angrily, "They've jacked up the price! Ten cents a hundred! I can eat two days on ten cents."

Next to me Skittery joins in the complaint, "This'll bust me; I'm barely making a livin' now." One of the younger Newsies I met last night – _Boots was it?_ – says, "I'll be back sleeping on the streets." I turn around to see Jack walk up to me. I quickly explain the situation to him before Mush comes over to us.

"I don't understand. I don't make no sense! All the money Pulitzer makes, ,why would he gouge us?" he asks, incredulous.

"Alright, obviously this is a gag." Jack says, leaving us standing there while he goes up to Weasel. "So, why the jack-up, Weasel?"

"Why not?" He grins nastily. "It's a nice day. Why don't you go ask Mister Pulitzer?"

Jack storms away from the desk, down the steps, and sits on the bottom one. The rest of the boys begin to gather around him and I follow suit. _What is going on? Why the sudden price increase?_

"They can't do this!" Blink shouts.

"They can do whatever they like; it's their paper." Race points out with a sigh. "It's a rigged deck. Why waste time kiddin' ourselves? They set the price, we gotta pay it."

Mush throws up his arms in frustration. "We got no choice! Let's get our lousy papes while they still got some."

"Nobody's going anywhere!" Jack speaks up. The rest of the boys grow silent and stay in place. "They ain't gonna get away with this!"

The boys begin to argue amongst themselves again, the tension building in the air. _This is going to get out of hand really fast._ I watch as a small kid I don't recognize push past the boys to get to Jack. "Stop crowding him; let him think!" he says. The group slowly simmers down to let Jack have a moment of silence for him to think at all.

A few seconds go past before Race asks, "Jack…ya still thinkin'?" I hit him in the arm and he looks at me. "What?"

"He's only had – what? – thirty seconds. Who can think of a plan in that amount of time? Can you?" I snap.

Jack looks up at the two of us, jaw set. He sighs while running a hand through his brown hair. "Well, one thing's for sure: if we don't sell papes, nobody sells papes. Nobody comes through those gates 'til they put the price back where it was."

A boy behind him with brown curly hair speaks up. "You mean like a strike?"

"Yeah, a strike! Good idea, Dave." Jack smiles.

"No, Jack. We can't go on strike, we're not a union." Dave says, looking alarmed at Jack's sudden approval.

"But if we go on strike, we are a union, right?"

"No. We're just a bunch of angry kids with no money." Dave explains. "Maybe if we got every Newsie in New York-"

"Yeah! We organize. We get all of the New York Newsies to join us!" Jack says.

He stands up and starts to walk out of the distribution center, having the rest of the boys follow him. I watch Dave sigh and say, "This isn't a joke. You saw what happened to those trolley workers."

"That's another good idea. Any Newsie that don't join us, then we bust their heads. Just like the trolley workers." he replies. The boys quickly flock to him, telling him it's a great idea, that this will work. I follow along, agreeing with the outrage of the raised prices, ready to join in this idea for the good of the Newsies. Jack stops at the Greenley statue, talking to Dave. I walk up to them.

"Look, Dave. I get what you're trying to say, but this is going to happen, even if it isn't the Manhattan Newsies." I tell him.

"But we can't just rush everybody into this." Dave protests.

Jack looks back over the group. "Ya know, Dave's right. Pulitzer and Hearst and all those other rich fellas, I mean, they own this city. Do we really think that a bunch of street rats like us have a chance against them?" The boys look at one another, trying to decide if they actually might stand a chance. "Look, the choice has got to be yours. Are we gonna take what they give us, or are we gonna strike?" The crowd remains silent, almost as if they're afraid to speak their mind. A voice behind me perks up; it comes from the kid I don't recognize from yesterday. "Strike!" The rest of the kids begin to murmur in their agreement with the idea. _Well, it looks like it's too late to back out now._

"Keep talking, Jack. Tell us what to do." Boots says.

Jack turns around to me and Dave. He pulls the two of us back to the front of the statue. He looks at Dave, "Alright, Dave. Tell us what to do." Dave looks at me for help, and I shrug.

"Uh, Pulitzer and Hearst have to respect our rights." he suggests.

Jack beams at him before turning back to the crowd. "Pulitzer and Hearst have to respect the rights of the workin' boys of New York." They begin to cheer in agreement with Jack.

"Alright, that went well." I tell Dave. "What else?"

"They can't treat us like we don't exist." he tells me.

I nod and feel a burst of adrenalin flow through my veins. I look up at the statue before climbing upon the base. "_Pulitzer and Hearst, they think we're nothing! Are we nothing?"_

_"No!"_

"If we stick together like the trolley workers, they can't break us up." Dave adds.

Following my lead, Jack stands up on the base beside me. _"Pulitzer and Hearst, they think they got us. Do they got us?"_

_"No!"_

"It's like a union. The Newsboy's Union." Dave says.

Jack nods, walking around the statue. _"Even though we ain't got hats or badges, we're a union just by saying so! And the world will know!"_

"What's to stop someone else from sellin' our papes?" Boots asks us.

"We talk to them." I shrug.

"Some of 'em don't hear so good." Race track argues.

"Well, then we soak 'em!" Jack tells him.

"No!" Dave cries out.

I ignore Dave's outburst and turn to the crowd. _"What's it going to take to stop the wagons? Are we ready?_

_"Yeah!"_

Jack smiles at me. _"What's it gonna take to stop the scabbers? Can we do it?'_

_"Yeah!"_

Pleased with his response, Jack continues, _"We'll do what we gotta do until we break the will of mighty Bill and Joe…"_

_"And the world will know!" _we all join in. _"And the Journal too. Mister Hearst and Pulitzer have we got news for you. _

_"Now the world will hear what we've got to say. We've been hawkin' headlines, but we're makin' 'em today. And our ranks will grow-"_

_"And we'll kick their rear!" _Crutchy adds.

_"And the world will know that we've been here!"_

Jack and I jump down from the statue into the eager group of boys ready to strike. I smirk at them, enjoying the enthusiastic expressions on their faces. _"When the circulation bel starts ringing, will we hear it?"_

_"No!"_

Jack goes on ahead of me, the boys joining him at his side. _"What if the Delancey's come out swinging? Will we here it?"_

_"No!"_

_"When you've got a hundred voices singing, who can hear a lousy whistle blow? And the world will know!_

_"That this ain't no game; that we've got a ton of rotten fruit and perfect aim. So they gave their word, but it ain't worth beans. Now they're gonna see what 'stop the presses' really means._

_"And the day has come; and the time is now; and the fear is gone – 'And our name is mud' – And the strike is on – 'And I can't stand blood' – and the world will know!"_

_"Pulitzer may own the world but he don't own us!" _ I turn to Jack and Dave. The rest of the Newsies echo my words. Jack nods. _"Pulitzer may crack the whip, but he won't whip us!"_

_"Pulitzer may crack the whip, but he won't whip us!_

_"And the world will know, and the world will learn. And the world will wonder how we made the tables turn._

_"And the world will see that we had to choose; that the things we do today will be tomorrow's news_

_"And the old will fall and the young stand tall; and the time is now and the winds will blow; and our ranks will grow and grow and grow and so the world will feel the fire and finally know!"_

The group cheers madly as we stand in front of the dome. Jack smiles widely at Dave and me before addressing the boys. "We gotta get the word out to all the Newsies in New York! I gotta have some…um…what d'ya call 'em?"

"Ambassadors?" Dave supplies.

"Right! You guys gotta be embastards and tell 'em we're on strike!"

"I'll take Harlem!" Blink says.

"I got Mid-Town!" Race shouts.

"The Bronx." Crutchy tells Jack.

"I'll get the Bowery." Mush adds.

"Bumlet, Specs, Skittery, take Queens; Pie Eater and Snotty, the East side…Snipeshooter go with them. Okay, who wants to go to Brooklyn? Spot Conlon's territory?" Jack asks.

The rest of the boys fidget nervously. I cock my head trying to understand. "I'll go with you, Jack." I tell him.

"Alright. Anyone else? C'mon, what's the matter? Scared of Brooklyn?" he jokes.

"We ain't scared of Brooklyn." Boots speaks up. "But Spot Conlon makes us a little nervous."

I snort. "How can one guy make all of you so nervous?"

"Well, he don't make me nervous. So, Wolf and Boots, you guys and me, we take Brooklyn." He glances over to see Dave ignoring the whole conversation. He smirks as he grabs him by the upper arms and adds, "And Dave can keep us company. Okay, Dave?"

Dave looks at him with wide eyes while Jack merely grins, challenging him to back out. "Sure. I'll go with you…As soon as you take our demands to Pulitzer."

Jack's grin falters. "Me? To Pulitzer?"

"You're the leader." Dave says with a smirk.

_You're learning, Dave._ I stifle back a chuckle that tries to escape.

Jack glances from the doors of the building back to the younger kid on his left. I watch as Jack quickly grabs the kid and places his hands on his shoulders. "Well, maybe the kid'll soften him up a bit." Encouraging shouts come from the remaining boys as Jack and the little kid go through the doors to talk to Pulitzer. I look over at Dave. "Alright, I got to ask…who's the kid?"

"That's my brother, Les. He admires Jack like crazy. I don't understand that." he shakes his head.

"What's going on?" a voice behind me asks.

We both turn to see a man in his late thirties holding a notebook in his hand. I stare at him quizzically, trying to figure out what he could possibly want from us.

"They're going in to present our demands to Pulitzer." Dave replies.

"What demands?"

"The Newsies' demands. We're on strike."

The man's eye widen at the news. I cross my arms over my stomach and continue to stare at him. "Who are you?"

"Oh, sorry! I'm Denton, I work for the _New York Sun. _What's your name?"

"Wolf…and this is David." I reply hesitantly, confused at why a reporter is doing here.

"So, you really think old man Pulitzer is going to listen to your demands?"

"He has to." David tells him.

The huge doors burst open as Les and Jack stumble out of the building. Jack turns back around and shouts, "So's your old lady! Tell Pulitzer he needs an appointment with me!"

He turns back to us with a sheepish smile on his face. "So, how'd it go?" I tease.

"Oh, ya know." he shrugs.

"And you are, young man?" Denton asks.

"Jack Kelly. You?"

"Denton. Can we go somewhere to talk about your strike?" he asks Jack.

"Uh…sure. There's a restaurant just a ways from here. Tibby's." Jack replies, very confused.

"Great."

The six of us, including Boots, start to head to this restaurant. I keep my distance from Denton, not fully trusting him. _But you don't trust anyone._ I purse my lips at the thought, knowing it's right. _I trust the Newsies more, though; even if it's only by a small margin. _I sigh softly to myself as we continue on our merry way. _I just hope this reporter isn't going to cause us trouble._

* * *

**I think I'll leave it there. Spot's in the next chapter, I promise you. So, what do you think? I didn't want to say they were singing, so I hope that doesn't bother you too much; so what did you think of the way I presented that scene? I think that actually went pretty well. Not my best chapter, but I was really anxious and excited to start the next one. Leave me a review in the box below, your opinions really matter to me and they make me smile. I'll see you guys soon!**


	5. 4 Reasons

**Here's chapter three! I hope you're liking this story as much as I am by writing it. The support I keep receiving is amazing. I love each and every one of you!**

**Panda Bear: There is no such thing as too many exclamation points when you're enthusiastic about something. Jack DOES need to stop flirting. haha. But let's face it, it is Jack Kelly; it's in his nature I suppose. I kind of messed up where Carrying the Banner is in the story. Sorry. But I am putting King of New York in here. LOVE IT! As always, I'm very pleased with the fact you are enjoying the story. I always look forward to your reviews, so please keep them coming!**

**Wapomeo Huntress: I love the chanting theory as well! That so makes sense for that song. King of New York…hmmm… I think they can sing with their celebration, so that will be sung I do believe. I look forward to seeing more wonderful reviews from you!**

**That goes for all of you. Every review I receive, I cherish. Your opinions mean the world to me. I hope you like this chapter. More of Wolf's back story is revealed…but not all of it. So, here it is!**

* * *

When we arrive at Tibby's, we find ourselves at the hands of Denton, who's more than willing to pay for our lunch. _What does he want?... What any reporter wants: a story to bend to their will._ I hesitantly take the seat next to him, seeing how no one else does. He orders sandwiches for us and take out a notebook book and pen.

"So, what was that all about?" he asks, looking directly at Jack.

"What? Us getting spat out of that building?" he questions.

Denton only nods. Jack eyes one of the sandwiches brought out to us before trying to cram half of it down his throat. I roll my eyes. I glance over at Denton. "Why are you doing this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Reporters never take in interest in the dealings of Newsies. No one ever cares about us; we only sell the papes for the rich and powerful. So, why are you suddenly so intrigued?"

"That's exactly the reason. You are going up against the most powerful man in all of New York. There's something to be said about that, and the truth needs to be heard."

"The truth, or your version? Since when have reporters actually told the actually events of a story?"

The other Newsies look between me and Denton. Jack clears his throat to gain Denton's attention. I set my jaw before turning back to the boys.

"Anyway, so obviously youse has heard about the Newboys' strike, right?" he asks Denton who simply nods.

"Well, I goes in to see Pulitzer with Les here, ya know, to maybe soften him up a bit. Well, we comes up to a desk and this snooty mug is sayin', 'You can't see Mister Pulitzer; no one sees Mister Pulitzer', real hoity-toity, you know the type."

"Yeah, real hoity-toity." Les agrees through a mouthful of food.

"So, I says, 'I ain't in the habit of transactin' business with no office boy. Tell him Jack Kelly is here to see him now'." Jack smacks his hand on the table for emphasis.

"That's when they threw us out." Les finishes.

Denton sits back a little in his chair, notebook still in hand. "So, does it bother you? Knowing who you're up against?" he asks.

Jack grabs at his outfit, "Yeah, look at me; I'm trembling." He chuckles with a roll of his eyes. Denton smiles lightly as he shuts his notebook. He stands up while pulling out a card and handing it to David. "Keep me informed. I want to know everything that happens."

"Are we really an important story?" Dave asks him.

"Or are we just the object of your interest for you to mess with?" I gaze up at him.

The corners of his mouth twitch. He turns back to David, ignoring my comment. "What's important? A year ago I covered the war in Cuba; charging up San Juan Hill with Colonel Teddy Roosevelt. A very important story. Now it doesn't seem so important – except Teddy's our governor and is probably on his way to the White House." He pauses, looking at each of us until his eyes land on me. "Is the Newsies' strike important? It all depends on you." With one last look at me, he starts to head to the door.

"My name really gonna be in the papers?" Jack asks him, causing him to turn back to us.

"Any objections?"

"Not as long as you get it right. Kelly, Jack Kelly. And Denton? No pictures." he adds.

Denton simply smiles before leaving us. I feel the boys look at me. I turn to see Jack keeping eye contact. "What the hell was that about?" he asks me.

"What?" I reply innocently.

"Your banter with Denton. What was that?"

"I don't trust reporters. Have you ever actually read the stories in the papes you sell? Most of the time the truth is warped and it's all for personal gain. They don't care about the people involved; they care about the money and their jobs, not the truth and the lives it effects with lies. I know that better than most." My eyes widen slightly as I finish my small speech.

"What do you mean?" David stares at me.

"Nevermind." I snap. "Don't we have to get to Brooklyn and talk to this Conlon guy?"

"Are you okay?" Jack asks.

"I'm fine." I sigh. "I just have…trust issues. Some things are just meant to be left alone. Denton seems nice enough, I just have a tough time believing that he really wants to write the truth, you know?"

Jack nods in understanding. "Well, come on then. We can't leave Brooklyn waiting."

~ * (*) * (*) * ~

We head off towards the BrooklynBridge at a brisk pace. Jack and Boots walk ahead of me and David, trying to work out what to say to Spot. I remain slightly irked from the conversation with Denton. I notice Dave walking beside me in silence so I decide to start up a conversation. "So, Davey, have you ever been to Brooklyn?"

"No, I've only ever stayed in Manhattan. You?"

"Same here. Manhattan treats me well enough." I smile.

"Have you ever heard of Spot Conlon, though?" he asks, fear seeping through his words.

"No, I haven't. That's why I have no clue as to why everyone's so terrified of him. I mean, he's just another Newsie." I shrug.

He chuckles uneasily. I glance over at him, an eyebrow raised. "What is it, Dave?"

"Well, isn't it a little funny how the only person who isn't scared of him is the only girl Newsie as well?"

"So, you _are_ scared?" I tease him as I catch his slip-up.

I watch with intrigue as his face pales. The corners of my mouth twitch upwards. He takes his eyes off of me to look at the road ahead.

"Come on." I say, nudging his shoulder. "Let's go catch up."

I jog up to Jack and Boots, not bothering to see if David's following. We manage to end up at the docks in a decent time span. When I start look around, I feel my throat constrict tightly, making it extremely difficult to breathe. I begin to remember every detail from that night roughly four years ago. I don't even realize that I've stopped moving until Jack calls out to me.

"Wolf? Wolf, are you alright?" He walks over to me, gently grasping my upper arms.

I nod slowly, not trusting my voice enough to speak up. Jack searches my face, trying to understand what's just overcome me. I take a deep breath before managing to force out, "I'm fine" just to reassure him. He stares at me for a few more seconds, then he releases me.

"Alright. Well, let's go see Brooklyn." he tells us.

We move away from the docks – I force myself to walk – and head for the bridge. I try to focus on the conversation passing between the three boys, but my mind keeps going off on its own tangents. _I wonder what happened to that man. I mean, I told him I'd only be in New York for a short time; that quickly turned into four years, Wolf… He knows my name. Whoever he is, he is the last person to know what my _real _name is. Why did he want it anyway? What was the _real_ reason?_

I continue to let these questions race through my head, not bothering to stop the trip down memory lane; seeing as how the flood gates are already wide open. I hold back a shudder as best I can as I remember the reason I even came to New York in the first place.

_1895_

_I am up in my bedroom, trying desperately to ignore the blundering footsteps of my uncl – no – my _father_. I sigh sadly as I shake any memory I might have of my real father out of my head. I hear Thomas shout from downstairs. _He's been drinking again… I hate it when he drinks. _Something crashes to the floor below and I hear him curse loudly. A few minutes of silence pass by before I listen to the thunderous footfalls travel up the stairs._

_I remain silent as he passes by my room. I listen against the door and hear him pound murderously at Morgan's door – his own fifteen year-old daughter, my cousin. _Oh, God. Don't let him hurt her. Morgan and I have never been on friendly terms, but, please, don't let her get hurt.

_"What, Papa?" she answers._

_A sudden thud echoes through the house, the sound of a body being tossed against a wall. A small cry emits from the room adjacent to mine. I wince slightly knowing that it came from Morgan. I summon my courage and leave my room to help her._

_"Hey!" I call out._

_Thomas walks out of Morgan's room, a bottle in his hand. He looks at me in anger, a look I'm used to receiving when he's drunk. He storms up to me and gets in my face._

_"What do you want?" he sneers._

_"Leave her alone." I reply firmly._

_He laughs darkly. "And what are you going to do about it?"_

What _can _I do? _I open my mouth to give a snappy remark when his hand whips across my cheek. I stumble backwards from the force. I stare up at him; he only smirks._

_"You interrupted me. Now you'll suffer the consequences."_

_He drops the half-empty bottle to the ground and comes at me. I try to side step but he grabs me, forcing me against the railing. I struggle under him, trying not to fall over the wooden beam. I see Morgan at her doorway in my peripheral vision. _I can't let him hurt her. _I shove back, trying to get him off of me. Surprised by my sudden advance, he lets go of me and steps backwards towards the stairs. He walks back up to me, eyes blazing with fury. He starts to raise his hand to strike me when I do the same. The sound of flesh against flesh resonates through the hallway, but quickly disappears with a new sound; the sound of a body falling down the stairs. I tremble as I walk over to the top stair, looking down at the body of my uncle, Thomas; waiting for him to come back after me._

1899

"So, is this Spot Conlon really dangerous?"

I come back to present time to hear David asking Jack about Conlon. Jack and Boots exchange a look before bursting into laughter. David wears a confused expression which I smirk at. I walk up beside him and say, "As long as he's not as bad as the Delancey brothers, you should be fine." He nods his thanks as we continue down the last stretch of the bridge.

We start to slow our pace as we finish walking on the bridge and begin to walk across a wooden deck. Boys are jumping into the water below us; some are playing cards; others are staring us down, almost in challenge. One boy steps up on the dock and stares down at Jack. "Goin' somewhere, Kelly?" he sneers.

Jack walks past him and so do the rest of us. I ignore all of the incredulous stares I receive. _Have they never seen a girl before?_ A few of them whistle at me and I roll my eyes.

"Well, if it ain't Jack-be-nimble, Jack-be-quick." a voice calls down to us.

I look up to see a boy standing atop a pile of crates. He grins down at Jack, ignoring David, Boots, and I.

"I see youse is moving up in the world, Spot; got an ocean view and everything." Jack replies.

The boy chuckles lightly before climbing down off of his throne. When he stands in front of us, I take a note of his outfit: white shirt with light grey squares, brown trousers, grey cabbie hat – quite similar to mine, and red suspenders. I notice a slingshot sticking out of one of his pockets and a black cane with a told tip through the loop in his suspenders. Jack spits into his palm, offering it to Spot. Spot smirks before following the gesture and shaking Jack's hand. He finally notices Boots and greets him. "How's it hanging, Boots?"

He nods to him before pulling out a couple of marbles from his pocket. "I gotta couple of real good shooters here."

Spot looks at the colored glass balls before selecting one and grabbing his slingshot. "So, uh…Jacky-boy. I've been hearing things from little birdies." He takes aim at a bottle on one of the top crates in a stack. "Harlem. Queens." He releases the marble, sending it flying right into the bottle, shattering it. He returns his attention to Jack. "All over. They're chirping in my ear: 'Jacky-boy's Newsies are playin' like they're going on strike." He walks past us as he finishes; finally turning back to him.

"Yeah, well we are." Jack says.

"But we're not playing; we are on strike." David blurts.

I roll my eyes gently at his lack of attention to the situation. Spot gets up in his face. "Yeah? Yeah?" he sneers. "What is this Jacky-boy? Some kind of Walking Mouth?" He turns away from David.

"Yeah, it's a Mouth." he sighs.

"But, he's a Mouth with a brain." I stand up for Davey, who sends a grateful smile my way. Spot looks over at me and does a double-take when he realizes I'm a girl.

"Who's the girl, Jack?" he asks over his shoulder.

"Oh, that's – "

"The _girl_ can speak for herself." I quickly send a glare in Jack's direction. I turn back to Spot. "I'm Wolf."

"Huh… You new?"

I chuckle at the question with a shake of my head. "Everyone seems to be asking that question lately. No, I'm not; I've been in New York for almost four years now." I cross my arms over my stomach as I lean against a pole.

"Never seen ya in Brooklyn." he states.

"Never been here; never had a reason to be." I shrug. "Anyway, if you have at least a half a brain, you'll listen to what David has to say."

He keeps his gaze on me a moment longer before shrugging himself. He sits down on one of the boxes and waits for David to speak. I gently push him forwards in encouragement. He sends a nervous glance in my direction before looking at Spot.

"Well, we, uh, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So… we've been talkin' to Newsies all over the city…"

"So they told me. And what did they tell you?" Spot replies, seeming to rapidly lost interest in the conversation.

"That…they're waiting to see what Spot Conlon says. That you're the key; that Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous Newsie in all of New York… and probably everywhere else. And if Spot Conlon joins the strike, they'll join; and we'll be unstoppable. So, you gotta join and well…you gotta…" David trails off, looking anxiously at Spot.

Spot smirks after letting out a quick chuckle. He looks over at Jack and me. "You're right. Brains." He stands up and takes out his cane. "But I've got brains too, and more than half of one." I suppress a snort as he looks over at me. "How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at you with a club?" He puts the end of his cane in David's face for emphasis. "How do I know you have what it takes to win?"

"'Cause I'm tellin' you, Spot." Jack says.

"Not good enough, Jacky-boy." he sighs. "You gotta show me."

Jack sighs softly, almost as though he's been defeated. He nods once to Spot before turning to go. I grip his arm, making him stop. He looks back at me. "Would it be alright if I stayed here for a bit? I've never seen Brooklyn and I'm already here." I say softly.

He looks over my head at Spot, I assume. He looks back at me before nodding. "Be safe, alright, Wolf?"

"No promises." I smirk. He smiles at me before signaling David and Boots to follow him. I sigh to myself as I watch them leave and head back for the bridge. I hear footsteps walk up behind me. "So, you're staying?"

I turn around to find myself staring up into a pair of silvery-blue eyes belong to Spot Conlon. He looks down at me with a smirk.

"Yeah, I'm staying. At least for a little while." I reply. "I figure since I'm already here, I might as well look around. I'll leave you and your Newsies alone so you don't have to worry about me bothering you."

I start to leave when he grabs my wrist, holding me back. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that." I look up at him with my brow furrowed in confusion. "You're a girl, I wouldn't let you walk around this town without an escort. Plus, you're one of Jacky-boy's Newsies. I couldn't deal with the thought of having to tell him that I didn't show you around. You're a guest."

I purse my lips. "I can take care of myself. But seeing as how you're stubborn, I'll take you up on that offer."

Spot grins victoriously at me and I roll my eyes. He holds out his arm for me; I link mine through his and we head off into the city.

~ * (*) * (*) * ~

Spot and I spend the entire day traveling in and about Brooklyn. He takes me down various off-the-beaten-path streets that "only a Brooklyn Newsie would know". He keeps me entertained with many stories staring the Brooklyn boys. I notice that it's starting to get dark when I turn to him.

"Spot, I should probably get going. I don't want Jack to have to worry about me. Thank you for the tour." I tell him.

"Hey, Wolf. I don't think heading back now would be such a good idea." he replies.

"Why not?" I cross my arms.

"I don't like the thought of a girl walking back to 'hattan in the dark. I couldn't bring myself to face Jacky-boy if something would happen to you."

"Aw, it sounds like you _actually_ care." I tease him.

He rolls his steel blue eyes. "Ha ha. I'm seriously though. You sould at least stay here 'til morning. Then, you're free to go."

"I didn't know I was a prisoner."

He genuinely laughs before leading to their Lodging House. We stroll through the streets until we reach a run-down building. A worn-out sign above the door reads "Brooklyn Newsboys' Lodging House". Spot opens the door and gestures for me to enter. I smile at him before entering.

I walk in to find the place in slightly worse condition than the Manhattan Lodging House. The desks look as though they're about to break, the floors are covered in dirt, the wallpaper peeling off the walls. I see many of the boys I saw on the dock this morning lounging about. I hear the door behind me close and feel Spot's hand on my arm. He lowers his mouth to my ear as he whispers, "Upstairs." I walk up the staircase that he indicates to the second story.

I look through the first doorway I come to to find the boys' bunkroom. It looks almost identical to the one in Manhattan. I can almost picture all of them in the room. The only difference is the number of bunk beds; there's at least six more. _Well, there does seem to be a larger number of boys here._ Spot walks in front of me with his infamous smirk plastered on his face.

"Now, what kind of host would I be if I made you sleep in here?" he jokes.

"I have no clue, but I'm guessing I'm _not_ sleeping in here."

He sighs with a shake of his head. "This way."

We pass by two more doorways (one being another bunk room, the other being a washroom) until we reach the last door on the left. Once again, Spot opens the door for me to enter. I step in with so much as a glance at him, completely curious as to where he took me.

I look around the dark paneled room to see a solitary bed pressed against the wall, a desk sitting opposite the bed, and a drawer beside the desk. I walk around gazing upon the various items lying around; another slingshot, hats, a pouch of spare marbles. I hear the sound of springs and turn to see Spot sitting on the bed. I lean against the desk and say, "So, I'm guessing this is your room?"

He nods. "What would my mother say?" I joke. He laughs softly, never breaking eye contact.

"What would she say?" he asks.

I bite my lower lip in concentration. _What would she say…and which one?_ I sigh as I cross the room to sit next to him. "I honestly have no idea. She probably would leap for joy at the thought." I watch him smile as he reaches to take off his shoes. I stay seated on his bed while he casually gets ready to sleep.

"I'll take the floor." I offer as he takes off his suspenders.

"No, you're not." he replies firmly. "I am."

"Oh, please. I was used to sleeping on crates before I met Jack yesterday. I'll take the floor."

He looks back at me with a fixed expression. He crosses his arms in defiance. "No. You're Brooklyn's guest. I have reputation to uphold. You take the bed."

"God Almighty, Spot." I sigh. "It seems to me that we're both stubborn and at the rate we're going, we'll never get to sleep. We could just share."

He raises an eyebrow at me, challenging me. I casually take off my shoes and set them down near the bed. I glance back at him with an expression telling him that I'm being serious.

"You're a strange one, Wolf." he says with a laugh.

"You have no idea." I reply instantly.

I slip into the bed trying to get comfortable when I hear Spot walk over. I look up at him to see an uncertain expression on his face.

"What's the matter, Spot? Are you scared of me?" I tease.

I watch as he sighs through his nose before laying down beside me. I smile to myself in the darkness and mutter, "If there's any funny business, I'm shoving you out a window. Understand?" The only response I receive is his chuckle. I close my eyes, waiting for drowsiness to take over. _What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

**There's chapter four. How was it? I was trying to finish it up before getting ready for school. How was Spot? I just have a few things to say really quickly. I don't understand why some people make him out to be really mean guy. I believe he's kind of like Wolf: stubborn, defensive, and aggressive when the situation calls for it. The idea of him being incredibly mean and obnoxiously arrogant never came across to me in the movie portrayal. In all honesty, I think he's actually a compassionate guy, but Brooklyn comes first. I don't know; this may be just me, but I'm going to write him how I want to cause this is my Fanfic. **

**Anyway, what did you think? I want your honest opinion. I don't know when I'll be able to update again, so I'm apologizing in advance. What did you think of Wolf's semi-back story? Leave a review below and I'll see youse guys soon!**


	6. 5 Anger and Confusion

**I'm so sorry I haven't updated in such a LONG time. I feel terrible. You can hate me with every fiber of your being if you want. However, here is the next chapter. I've made a slight change (it really is minor) to the last chapter. Instead of it being a step-father, its Wolf's uncle who takes care of her. You'll understand why I made the change when you read this chapter…. hopefully. Now, I believe is the time to reply to reviews from you darling readers you kept me going.**

**Wapomeo Huntress: I'm glad you found Wolf's back story entertaining. Hopefully, this explains a bit more as to why she's kind of isolated. Spot is awesome… he simply is. I do see him more as the cocky guy with a hint of arrogance that sometimes shows up when he's pissed, but Wolf may be the one to help knock some sense into him ;) What HAS Wolf gotten herself into? I don't think she even knows. Ha ha. I hope you'll continue to read and love it!**

**Panda Bear: I love her wittiness… I wish I actually had that smart wit and courage. She does work nicely with Spot, doesn't she? Spot probably did it only to accept the challenge; he doesn't strike me as the guy to turn one down, especially from a girl. I guess to answer your question, I must finally tell all: Spot WAS the one who she met on the docks four years ago. However, she looked a bit different, probably sounded a bit different, and let us not forget how dark it was that night. I made it a point to state that (not saying this to sound like a jerk, only to help clear this question up), also… he might not remember like you guessed. I can't wait for "King of New York" either! Love that song and I have some scenes where Wolf is gonna steal the spotlight; not too much of course ;) Hope you love this chapter!**

**DayDreamer1122: I'm thrilled that you love it! I hope you continue to love it! I'm glad that, not only you, but everyone seems intrigued by her past. I hope no one will be disappointed when the truth comes out… Not saying that it's bad, but I just hope it's not being too hyped up on.**

******Saya. Hikari. Uchiha**: Glad you think it's awesome. And you, dear reader/reviewer, need to continue to read! Ha ha. I'm also happy that you like my portrayal of Spot. Hope I continue to post chapters that make you love this story even more.

**Darling Guest: Honestly, you're probably the reason as to why I updated… (not that I don't care about you other guys, cause all of you are my inspiration!) I'm glad that you think the story is good. It must be to receive so many amazing reviews. I completely agree that so many really good stories never get updated… that's when I realized that I need to get myself back to this story. So, thank you so much for giving me my wake-up call. I can't be any more sincere. Hope you continue to read!**

**Once again, thank you everyone. Every review I get makes me smile more and more. It tells me that there are people who actually enjoy my work. Before you start reading, I feel I should warn you: I sort of messed up the time line. The day they visited Spot, was the day that they first started a riot at the distribution center… When I started writing the chapter, I forgot and it was too late to fix. So, everything is simply moved back a day; meaning the day this chapter starts off with is the day the first riot at the center takes place. Hope this doesn't upset you too much. Please enjoy this LONG anticipated chapter!**

* * *

_1888_

_I gaze across the room at my mother, Martha. I watch as she takes in a shaky breath, barely able to hold on for any length of time. I hear myself whimper as her sparkling eyes flutter shut. I rush from my chair to her side, grasping her pale hand in mine. I gently sob, tears staining my cheeks. _She's dying._ I nod in agreement with the voice in my head. _Why is this happening? She hasn't done anything wrong.

_"Please don't go, mama." I whisper to her._

_She opens her blue eyes slowly, trying to force them open. They mirror the concern on my face. She tries to give me a reassuring smile that looks more like a grimace. Mama starts to cough violently, her body jerking upward with each attack. I feel my hand tighten on hers. She gently lays her head back down on her pillow, eyes re-shut. I suddenly find it hard to swallow, looking upon my mother's limp, nearly-lifeless form._

_"Don't be sad, Catherine. We will see each other again." she murmurs to me._

_I find myself shaking my head. "No, mama. You'll get through this. You have to."_

_"Oh, my little one. I wish it were so, but I want you to know that I love you. I love you so much."_

_I sniffle lightly, sensing another onslaught of tears. "I know. I love you too… What will I do when…when you're with daddy?"_

_"Oh, sweetheart…please don't cry." she frowns. "Uncle Thomas will take care of you."_

_I nod stiffly. Mother coughs again, this time staining her handkerchief with droplets of blood. I feel my throat tighten as I watch her face become even paler by the second. She closes her eyes as she squeezes my hand with all of the strength she has left. We stay like this for another hour before I feel her grip slacken._

_"Mama?" I whisper._

_No reply leaves her pale lips._

_"Mama?" I say a bit louder, my voice quivering._

_She still doesn't reply. My vision suddenly becomes obscured by the tears that flow freely down my face. I feel a hand placed on my shoulder and I look up to see the outline of a woman. I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision and I see my aunt Claire. She pulls her face into a sympathetic smile and kneels down beside me._

_"It'll be alright, Catherine. You're a strong girl. We'll be just fine." she says, her voice shaking._

_"Why'd she have to go?" I sob._

_"I don't know, sweetie. I really don't"_

* * *

1899

I wake up with a start. I clutch the thin sheet to my chest covering my body and draw in shaky breaths_._ A cold sweat covers my forehead, matting my blonde hair. I feel my body tremble slightly, still remembering the dream I carefully swing my feet over the bed I'm in and try to stand up, only to fall back down on the bed. I look around to see where I am. _I'm still in Spot's room… But where is he?_ I set my elbows on my shaking knees to place my head in my hands. _Why am I suddenly reliving every terrible memory I've ever had? _An image of my mother pale and dead flashes through my mind and I sob softly.

The door to the room opens and I try to put an end to the tears streaming down my flushed face. I feel the bed shift as someone sits down beside me. I don't look up, already knowing exactly who it is. I attempt to wipe the tears away as discreetly as possible; I can already tell that his eyes are on me.

"Wolf, are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." I reply, my voice quivering more than I'd like.

"Ya sure?" The uncertainty evident in his voice.

I lift my head hesitantly to meet a pair of blue-grey eyes that seem to have a faint hint of concern hidden within them. I wipe the rest of the tears off of my cheeks, aware that he's already seen the result of an emotional breakdown.

"Wolf, what's wrong?" he asks.

"So many things," I mutter, "Things that I'd rather forget; things I wish would leave me alone."

I sigh sadly as images race through my memory, threatening to send another bout of tears down my face. I glance over at Spot to see that he's shifted to completely face me.

"What?" I question.

"How can the tough, witty, and overall stubborn girl I met yesterday completely break down the _very_ next morning?"

I chuckle dryly, all emotion gone from me. "Because, Spot, most of the time, that's simply a façade, a mask. I've tried for so long to perfect it, and now it just starts to fade away. I guess that my past just wants to come to light… I wish that it had picked a different time."

"What could youse have gone through to be so terrified of your own life?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I half-snap at him, not wanting to divulge the information. _I haven't even told Jack and _he_ seems to understand me better than most._ I look back at Spot, waiting for him to shout at me for snapping at him suddenly. His expression does change, but not to a frown; instead, it turns into a grin.

"Now, _there's _the Wolf I met yesterday."

I give him a half-smirk, "And that's only one side of me."

"That just means that there are more for me to see."

I inhale sharply at his bold statement. "Most of them I hope you never have to see. I never wanted _anyone_ to see me like I was a moment ago." I see a puzzled look spread across his features. I stand up and cross over to the solitary window to look outside. I notice how light it is, and, without turning to Spot, I ask, "What time is it?" I silently hope that he takes the hint that I _really_ don't want to discuss the previous topic any further… at least not at the moment.

"Um… around nine? I'm not entirely sure." he replies, confusion taking root in him.

I turn around to stare at him, eyes slightly widened. "Nine? Why didn't you wake me? I should be back by now." I grab my boots hastily, throwing them on to lace them up.

"Whoa! Hang on there, Wolf." Spot says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"What?" I snap, meeting his icy gaze.

He doesn't even flinch at my sudden anger. I soften my gaze, but only slightly as anger continues to course through me.

"I didn't expect you to be in such a hurry to get back, that's all."

"Well, I can't exactly stay here." I tell him, finishing with my laces.

"Why can't youse?" he turns on me, anger evident in his own voice.

I open my mouth to reply with a snappy retort, but quickly close it when nothing comes to mind. I ignore the smug look on Spot's face as he realizes I've got nothing. _I really don't have a legitimate reason to go back… but I don't have one to stay either._ I tie my hair up into a ponytail before I shove my hat onto my head. I turn back around to see that the smug expression has not yet left his face. I sigh in frustration and tell him, "I… I just have to, Spot. Thank you for showing me Brooklyn, though."

I turn away from him to head towards the door. I begin to make a mental route of how to get from this lodging house to the bridge when I hear his reply; cold, disappointed, and angry. "Running back to Kelly, just like the rest."

I feel my jaw clench as I turn back to face him. He leans against the wall, his arms are crossed over his chest, and his eyes a cold, yet hold ferocity within them.

"I barely know him, Spot. I'm not going back for Jack." I say firmly, my anger matching his.

"Then why are you going back?"

I stare at him, unsure if my next comment will send him over the edge or not. I decide to take the chance. "I don't really know you either, do I?"

No response graces his lips; his eyes never leave mine. I hold my gaze as I exhale sharply through my nose before asking, "Why are you even arguing to keep me here?" His eyes widen slightly, as if he's taken aback by the question. His eyes seem to glance over my face like he's trying to determine whether to be honest or just brush it off and ignore it. After a minute or so, he shakes his head with a sigh, sandy hair covering his face. "Because, Wolf, I-"

"Spot! Spot!"

A young boy enters the room, running. The door swings and crashes against the wall, causing a loud thud to sound. I jump lightly, startled by the sudden commotion. I glance over at Spot to find him glowering at the kid.

The boy, who decided to stop Spot mid-explanation, pants heavily beside me. His cap hides most of his dark brown hair except for a few rogue curls. Just like Spot, a slingshot rests in his back pocket, ready to use at a moment's notice.

"What Sparrow?" Spot growls, clearly mad at being interrupted.

"'Hattan… distribution center… trouble…" Sparrow manages between breaths.

"Hey, Sparrow… relax a moment and breathe," I tell him, "Now, please… try that again."

Sparrow gives me a quick glance before turning his gaze back to Spot. He notices his irritated expression and swallows. He pauses briefly to get his breathing back to normal before rephrasing and clarifying his previous statement.

"Jacky-boy's Newsies. They were soakin' people at the distribution center; I guess they gots carried away. Next thing they knew, the bulls were comin'. They managed to get away… except for Crutchy." he mumbles towards the end.

"Excuse me?" I stare at the child.

"By the time Crutchy got to the gates, he was cornered by the Delancey brothers… They took 'im and beat 'im up pretty bad."

I visibly stiffen at the information presented. _Why Crutchy? Why would anyone want to harm someone as innocent and sweet as him?_ I tune back in in time to hear Sparrow say, "-to the Refuge."

"He was taken to the Refuge?" I ask to clarify.

Sparrow nods in reply. Spot's eyes remain locked on his look out. _I need to get back. I need to hear this from them… then we need to get Crutchy. Out of all of the Manhattan Newsies, he is _not_ the one to deserve this._ I look over at the door then back at Spot, whose gaze finally meets mine. Most of the anger from earlier seems to have vanished, but irritation seems to have taken its place. Without looking at Sparrow, Spot tells him, "Sparrow, get back to 'Hattan, if something else happens, come back and tell me. Understood?"

"Yes, Spot." he replies before leaving the room in a fast paced jog.

"Wolf."

"What, Spot?"

"I know you wanna go back and help, but-"

"But what? I _am_ going back. I want to do what I can to help. Crutchy doesn't deserve this. I deserve it more than he does."

"Don't say that."

"It's true, Spot. You think you've got me figured out, but you don't. I'm going to go back to see what I can do. I'm _also_ joining this strike that you seem to think is pointless." I turn towards the door.

"Wolf," I turn around with an annoyed expression plastered on my face, "I'll see you soon."

"I hope so, Spot. I really do." And with that, I take off in a sprint back towards Manhattan.

~ * (*) * (*) * ~

I finally reach the Manhattan lodging house for the boys. I glance up to see movement near the windows. I enter the building, nodding a brief, "Hello," to Kloppman as I pass him to travel on up the stairs. I stand in the doorway to the bunk room, noticing that the boys seem to be angry and pissed off. I see Racetrack, Mush, Jack, and David standing together in the middle of a heated discussion.

"Alright, does _anyone_ want to tell me what the hell happened today?" I ask, my voice carrying through the room.

The boys look up, startled by the sudden presence of a female voice. Jack's gaze finds me and he walks over with a softened expression.

"Hey, Wolf. How much did you hear about it?"

"Enough to recognize that we need to get Crutchy. I may not have met you guys not long ago, but he certainly does not deserve to be there." I reply.

"Damn straight." I hear Race say.

"So, what's the plan?" I inquire.

"Me and Davey are gonna spring him from the Refuge tonight. I'd invite you to join us, but I don't want us to get caught. No offense."

I smile softly, "None taken, Cowboy. You're right; the more people that go with you, the more likely you are to get caught. You need to take the bare minimum." My smile fades as I smack him upside the head.

"What was that for?" he asks in shock.

"For being an idiot! Did _anyone_ think to make sure everyone was with you? Maybe if he had only been taken to the Refuge, I wouldn't be as pissed as I am. But seriously, what happened to being a family? Don't families look out for each other?"

"We weren't exactly thinking straight at the time-"

"Well, no shit, Jack!"

"Wait, what did you mean by 'if he had _only _been taken to the Refuge'? What else happened?" Race intervenes.

"You don't know?" I ask as I look around at the boys. The confused expressions confirm my question.

"Oh, I forgot… Spot has look outs everywhere… or at least he was bragging about it… Apparently, after you all fled the scene, Crutchy was cornered by the bulls first… it was the Delancey brothers. They beat him up pretty bad, Jack. That's why I'm upset about this whole ordeal." I sigh. "I deserve what happened to him _way_ more than he does."

"We all do, Wolf. We'll get him out. I promise." Jack says to me.

"Jack, I really hope your word is good for something." I say before leaving the room.

I walk over to the stairs leading to the roof, needing to find some peace in this whole mess. The sun beats down on the roof, but that doesn't bother me in the slightest. I have too many other things to be concerned about. _Why Crutchy?_ _This seems to be the most important question. _I sigh softly. _Why did Spot not want me to leave is another good question. The only other thing that seems to be weighing heavily on my mind is… why am I suddenly being haunted by my past? I've tried so hard to forget and now it seems like that's the only thing I can think about. _I sigh with agitation. _Why? I suppose that about sums up everything that I'm guessing lately…why?_

* * *

**So, sorry about this being short… well, maybe it isn't as short as I think it is… Anyway, I hope you liked the short look into an earlier moment in Wolf's past. I would love it if you reviewed, darlings. You all know how much I appreciate it. Once again, sorry about the long, long, LONG wait for this. I hope you weren't too disappointed by this chapter. I will be attempting to publish the next chapter in a few days. Don't kill me if I don't… I probably got distracted. Tell me what you thought of this chapter (I don't really have to say this; I know you amazing people will).**

**Oh, while you're on here, check out my friend on here: ****_Trinity Harkness_****. You might actually find something you like, plus you're already on FanFiction anyway. Leave a review of what you thought, ALWAYS carry the banner, and I'll see youse as soon as I can!**


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